


Dear Santa

by kittykat128



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Rey (Star Wars), Bakery, Blow Jobs, Choking, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Smut, Deepthroating, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, F/M, Kissing, Letters to Santa, Name-Calling, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Submissive Rey (Star Wars), Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, best of both worlds, brief mention of foster care, businessman Ben, romantic sex, small titty appreciation, spit, standing orgasm, stoplights system, talk of baked goods, wrong mailbox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykat128/pseuds/kittykat128
Summary: Rey gets drunk one night and writes a letter to Santa detailing all the ways that she's been naughty this year, in the hopes that he will give her the perfect present.But she accidentally slides it into her hot neighbor's mailbox... and he has every intention of fulfilling her Christmas wish.---A Christmas Reylo One Shot
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	Dear Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://ibb.co/N7qZwM0) news story.
> 
> As always, thanks to [kayla](https://twitter.com/kayla_248) for fixing my grammar :)

Rey is halfway through her second bottle of wine when the idea comes to her. To be honest, it has been bouncing around in her head for awhile, but as a joke. This time though, with _Miracle on 34th Street_ on the television, and no presents underneath her fake tree, it seems like the only way to lift her spirits.

After finding a spare piece of paper and a working pen, she went to work outlining all of her bad behavior, no matter how embarrassing or personal it seemed. No stone was left unturned because in order for the letter to work, she had to be completely honest-- at least, that’s what Rey has been led to believe by the movies.

Once she’s finished with that, she goes into what she wants for Christmas. She finishes off her glass, taking a moment. Rey has never wanted for a lot. After growing up in the foster care system, she got used to the generic gifts of makeup, candy, and books that her caregivers would buy for all the children in the home. She would sell the makeup at school, devour the candy, and read the books before donating them to Goodwill, none of them giving her that warm feeling in her chest, the sense that she has actually been seen. That’s what she really wants, not a new phone, a better apartment, or a promotion at work. It’s to be known in the most intimate detail and be gifted something she didn’t even know she wanted, but turns out to be perfect.

She scribbles out her heart’s desire, reading the whole letter over once more to check for typos. Satisfied with her work, she signs her name and empties her desk, searching for an envelope. After figuring out how to address the letter, she sticks a couple stamps on it and goes downstairs to stuff it in her mailbox for the postman to pick up the next day.

_Maybe this year, my Christmas wish will finally come true._

…

Ben sighs, exhausted from his long day at the office. True, his office always smells like baked goods since it’s located in the back of the bakery he co-owns with his best friend Poe, but that doesn’t mean he slacks off. Poe is in charge of the culinary aspects of the business, and Ben was responsible for… everything else. But he didn’t mind. He has always been the one to bring Poe back to Earth when it comes to his crazy ideas. Little did he know how much work it took (and how little it paid) to run a small business before he quit his six figure job as a junior partner at a law firm, but the constant supply of sweets and making Poe happy more than makes up for the difference.

He opens the door to the small landing of his apartment building and unlocks his mailbox, having forgotten to check it the day before. There’s the usual; a Christmas card from his parents, ( _shit, I still have to send those_ ), a Christmas catalog from Men’s Warehouse, and…

His eyebrows narrow at the letter with messy handwriting scrawled all over it. He squints, trying to make out the dress.

_Santa Clause? The North Pole?_

It must have been put in his box by accident, probably by some kid that wanted to hide the letter from their parents. But then he catches the return address.

_Rey Niima._

His heart skips a beat. Rey Niima. His neighbor who has been flirting with him for the past few months. When she goes down the stairs to the laundry room wearing the tiniest shorts and crop tops, she has this look in her eye and he knows she’s wearing them just for him. And when he prepares a box of products from the bakery for her every few weeks to drop off at her door, he knows he’s flirting right back. That’s been the nature of their relationship since he moved in, and so far neither of them have found the nerve to make the first move.

_Wait, why would Rey be writing a letter to Santa?_

The right thing to do would be to go outside and stick the letter in the mailbox at the street corner; he knows this. He has never been one to eavesdrop, so why was the urge to open this letter nearly overwhelming?

A sheen of sweat appears on his forehead as he debates what to do. His suit jacket suddenly felt entirely too warm. It would be so easy to just slip it into the slot outside and let her letter get thrown out with all the others. But this could be his one chance to find out what she wants for Christmas, and maybe that could lead to a conversation, and then that could lead to…

Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s ripping open the envelope and reading the letter as fast as possible.

_Dear Santa,_

_I know I’ve been a bad girl this year. To be honest, I’ve probably been a bad girl every year, and I’m sorry, but I want to make things right. I’m tired of no presents under the tree, so I’m gonna do what all the kids do and recount all the naughty things I’ve done this year in hope that you’ll forgive me and visit me on Christmas Eve. Please :(_

_First, I’ve been stealing the nice markers from work and I’m sorry. But they’re really good quality and I need them for my drawings and I can’t afford them otherwise. No excuses though, it’s wrong, and I’ll return them next time I go into the office, I promise._

_Second, I have a secret Twitter account I use to troll Trump supporters into giving me money and then I donate it to social causes. They think it’s going to help my lawsuit against Big Tech, but nope, it’s helping get progressives reelected in purple districts. I know it’s wrong, but I’m not gonna apologize, those fuckers can suck my big fat cock >:(_

_Third, I’ve been a little bit of a whore this year. I started this new brand of birth control and it’s made my libido go through the roof. I’ve bought like five sex toys for myself and even paid for some ethical porn (see, I’m not a totally awful person), but I’m still unsatisfied. I tried the dating apps, but the guys gross me out too much to give them my number, so I’m stuck with a toy in between my legs and my neighbor’s face in my mind. God, my neighbor. He’s so fucking hot, I turn into a dripping, stammering mess whenever I’m around him. He makes me want things I’ve never wanted before. But I’ll probably scare him away with my requests. However, I have to be transparent with you, so I’ll spill._

_I want him to grab my throat and hold me as he fucks me against the wall, too driven crazy by his love for my tiny pussy to even take his clothes off. I want to be ordered around and draped across his lap as he spanks my ass until it’s bright red. Then I want him to shove my face into the couch cushions as he fucks me from behind and I come without him even laying a finger on my cunt._

_I guess that’s what I want for Christmas too. Not the neighbor fucking me part (although that would be nice), but someone to give me exactly what I want without me telling them. An unspoken thing that lets them know who I am. But I know that’s a difficult thing to gift, so some good markers would be fine too :)_

_Sincerely,  
Rey Niima_

Ben nearly face-plants on the stairs because he can’t climb them fast enough.

…

BUZZ!

BUZZ!

BUZZ!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“I’m coming!” Rey yells from the kitchen, putting away dishes. She closes a cupboard and makes her way across the apartment to the front door. She peeks through the pinhole-

_Oh my God._

Rey unlocks the chain and opens the door, confounded by the breathless Ben Solo in front of her.

“Ben, what is it-”

He holds up her letter to Santa.

“Did you really mean all this?” He huffs out.

“Oh fuck,” Rey can feel her face turn red. God, she got so drunk last night, she thought the whole letter writing thing was a dream. But no, she actually wrote it and put it in the wrong mailbox and now the one person in the whole world she wouldn’t want to see the letter has read it. “I’m so sorry. I thought that was a dream. I got so drunk last night. Just pretend you never saw it.” Rey holds her hand out for the letter. Ben hands it to her, but he doesn’t let go when she tries to yank it back.

“That’s not what I asked,” his voice turns an octave lower. Rey looks up from his hand gripping the paper to his face, frightened by the dark look in his eye. “ I asked,” he takes a step closer, forcing Rey to tilt her head up more, “do you really mean all this?”

Rey nods, too shocked to do anything else.

“You know stoplights?”

She recalls the safe word system she read in an erotica awhile ago. She nods again.

“I need a verbal confirmation, Rey.” He still hasn’t let go of the letter.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Rey sucks in a breath. “Yes, sir.”

She’s suddenly shoved back, the letter falling out of her grasp as she braces herself against the wall behind her. Ben kicks the door shut behind him, dropping his bag before grabbing her throat in his large hand. She can feel his fingers pulling on the wisps at her hairline.

“It’s _Mr. Solo_ , to you, whore,” he growls, shoving a leg in-between hers to keep her from wiggling anywhere else. “That’s what you called yourself in that letter. Whore. Sounds like you wanna be my whore, is that right?”

Rey nods. He squeezes, moving in closer till she can feel the spit on her face when he says, “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes, Mr. Solo.” Rey barely recognizes her own voice, an octave higher than normal. She can’t believe that this is happening, that the man of her dreams is in her foyer treating her exactly how she wants to be treated: like the whore she knows she is.

“You’re a slow learner, Rey,” he murmurs, the hand not holding her throat drifting up to play with the skirt of her dress. “What are we gonna do about that, hm?” He drops the fabric, moving his hand up her waist, to her breasts. Rey suddenly remembers that she’s not wearing a bra.

“Whatever you want, Mr. Solo.” she says, a little stronger than before.

“Good girl,” he murmurs in her ear as he pulls down the neckline of her sundress to expose her tits, the nipples pebbling in the cool air. “So tiny,” he says, taking a nipple in-between his fingers and pulling. Rey’s back arches away from the wall, a whimper escaping her throat.“But all for me, right whore?” he asks, switching to pull on the other one.

“Always,” Rey moans. “Mr. Solo,” she spits out before he can react.

He chuckles, amused at how flustered she is. “Now how wet are you for me, darling?” Rey opens her mouth to speak, but before she can get a word out, he cuts her off. “Wait,” He lets go of her nipple, quickly pulling up her skirt to slide a hand down her underwear. “I wanna find out for myself.”

Rey was so distracted by Ben’s presence that she didn’t even notice that she’s soaked and pulsing for him. She practically jumps out of her skin when he slides a finger in between her folds. “Wow,” he breaths out, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already on the brink.” Rey turns her head away, too embarrassed, but Ben forces her gaze back on him. “ Don’t look away when I’m talking to you.”

Rey gasps as he suddenly inserts a finger inside her, all the way to the knuckle. His fingers are so much thicker than hers, and with his hand on her throat, she feels that much smaller, as if her whole body has diminished like the blood flow to her brain.

“Jesus, fuck you’re tight,” he says, taking another finger and sliding it with the first, scissoring them to stretch her channel, leaving Rey gasping. “I’ll have to loosen you up if you wanna take my cock.” He leans in to her ear, “but something tells me you like the pain.” He moves his thumb to her clit and she’s buckling at the knees, the orgasm right there all he has to do is-

“Come on my hand, Rey,” he grunts, “I want you to squeeze my fingers as hard as you can.”

And she does. It hits her like a truck, causing her to cry out as she tries to contract her pelvic muscles. He lets go of her throat, and the rush of blood makes her legs give way. He pushes against her, holding her up with the weight of his body. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, and she’s sure she’s ruining the fabric of his jacket with her fingernails, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because he doesn’t look away from her face, watching her come undone, tears leaking out of her eyes.

“That’s my good girl,” he says when she regains her breath. “Following instructions,” he pulls his hand out of underwear and holds them up to his face, admiring the shine. “Open your mouth.” She does so without hesitation. He shoves the two fingers that were inside of her between her lips, “It’s polite to clean the messes we make, don’t you agree?” She gets the message, sucking down on his fingers and lapping herself off of him.

“Now, let’s move somewhere more comfortable,” Ben grabs a fistful of hair and pulls her along with him, fingers still in her mouth. Rey stumbles as she follows him to the living room. He pushes her to her knees in front of the couch as he sits down, taking his fingers out and wiping the salvia on her cheeks. “You’re good with that little tongue of yours.” Ben fumbles with his belt buckle. “Let’s see what else you can do with it.”

He grabs her hair in both hands and pulls her to his crotch, shoving his hard cock against her face. Rey closes her eyes, the sudden intrusion of a hard, warm, leaking thing into her personal space activating the reflex. He rubs her face all over himself, until the only reality Rey knows of is his cock. She must look like a mess at this point, with runny eyes and dried spit on her cheeks. But he’s still here, nearly bursting at the sight of her between his legs. It sends a shock to her core, already recuperating from the orgasm he gave her a few minutes ago.

“Hands behind your back,” Ben orders. Rey complies, opening her eyes to look up at him. His face is flushed, the tie loosened around his neck. “Open your fucking mouth.”

Her body isn’t hers anymore. She knows this. She knows because before the words are even past his lips, she’s already waiting for him with her mouth wide open. And he takes what is his, sheathing himself to the hilt.

Rey gags, surprised by how big he is. She can feel him scraping at the back of her throat before he pulls back halfway, allowing her to take a shallow breath. Then he's cutting off her windpipe again. This goes on for a while -- Rey can’t tell how long. She only has room in her brain for the cock in her mouth.

“Look at me, whore,” Ben groans. She didn’t even realize she’d closed her eyes, but Rey does as she’s told, flickering her gaze up at him. His hair has fallen in front of his face, but she can see through the strands that are blown away from his heavy breathing. He looks exactly how she feels. Undone. “Good. Fuck, I wanna come in this mouth of yours. Fill your belly with my seed. Would you like that, Rey?”

She shakes her head. Ben stops, taken aback. “What?” He pulls her off his cock, causing her to cough. He yanks her hair down to tilt her face up towards him. “Was that a no?” he growls.

“I want you to come in my pussy,” Rey says with a hoarse voice. “Please, Mr. Solo.”

Ben tuts, “Normally, I wouldn't give a shit where you want me to come.” He moves his hand from her hair to the sides of her face, leaning in close. Rey opens her mouth on instinct.

“But since it’s Christmas, and this is your first time, I’ll do what you ask,” he murmurs sweetly before spitting into her mouth. “Now lay down on the couch and take off your clothes.”

Rey scurries to her feet, quickly pulling her dress over her head and discarding her underwear. Ben moves over to the edge of the cushion, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He has more layers then Rey, so she has a few seconds to collect herself. She can’t believe this is the same living room that she wrote the letter in the night before, and now her jaw aches in the best way from her neighbor’s giant cock.

As he takes off his shoes, Rey can’t help but smile at his naked body. She assumed that he wouldn’t be the fittest man in the world, working at a bakery and all, but the healthy layer of fat on his abdomen was more endearing then any sculpted muscle. He catches her eying him.

“What are you smiling at?” He asks, teasing. His voice is different, not the dominant one he used a moment ago, but his real one.

“Your tummy,” Rey giggles, “I like it.”

“You would look like this too if you were surrounded by cakes all day,” he says, crawling over her body until he reaches her face. Rey reaches up and pushes his hair away from his face.

“That sounds like a dream.”

“No, this is,” he says before he leans down and kisses her. It starts soft, just their lips taking more and more of each other until she feels his tongue asking for entrance and she opens. He kisses like everything else they’ve done together: like his tongue belongs here, and she relishes in it. She doesn’t even notice Ben line himself up with her entrance and start to push inside until the sudden burn causes her to gasp.

“Shh, you can do this,” Ben coos, looking down between them to see how far he has left to go. “Almost there, Rey.”

He’s so large-- much larger than any of the pathetic toys she’s been using, and it takes awhile for her to adjust. He holds her through all of it, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, and caressing the skin over her ribcage. She can tell when he’s all the way in by the way he whines. “You’re so tight, Rey, Jesus fuck,” he huffs out, “We’ll go slow, alright?” She looks into his eyes, and while the darkness is still there from before, it’s softened from a hard onyx to a soft chocolate. She nods, and he starts thrusting.

This wasn’t what she wanted. This tenderness, this oneness. She wanted to be fucked so hard she forgot her own name, but this is smothering, and she finds herself enjoying it all the same. The slow, short strokes Ben makes, one hand in hers beside her head, the other, over her pelvic bone to feel himself inside her. It’s dizzying in a different kind of way, especially with that look in his eyes. She wonders if hers look the same.

“Harder, please,” Rey whimpers. Ben complies, quickening his thrusts until his skin is slapping against hers in the most obscene way. He moves his hand from her pelvis to her leg, bending it back, until her knee is beside her head. The new angle allows him to go even deeper and reach the spot no man has ever reached before and she feels like she’s on fire.

“You’re grinding on me,” Ben remarks with a chuckle, noticing how she’s suddenly moving her hips against his.

“I’m gonna come, Ben, don’t stop,” Rey says, closing her eyes to try and focus on the feeling of him inside her, touching her g-spot. He starts thrusting harder, kissing her neck and collarbone as she twitches beneath him, arms grasping at his biceps as another orgasm takes over her body.

This time she sees stars. It’s unlike anything she has ever experienced and as it washes over her, she can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have these every day, to wake up with him beside her, to see him sitting at her kitchen table. These images only add to the pleasure, his name coming from her lips like a prayer, “ _BenBenBenBenBenBenBen_.”

“Yes, Rey, I’m here,” he whispers, kissing a trail from her ear to her lips. They kiss until Rey’s muscles fall pliant,“I’m almost there, can you hold out a little longer?” Ben asks. Rey nods. “Turn over.”

Ben pulls out, and Rey almost cries at the hollowness inside her she’s suddenly aware of. She goes onto her stomach, Ben taking a pillow and stuffing it under her hips so they stick up more than the rest of her body. Rey turns her face towards the couch, adjusting the pillow beneath her head so she can hold onto it. She feels him press kisses into her hair.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, slowly sliding back into her. Rey practically purrs, digging her face into the softness of the pillow and letting herself be used by the large man above her. “Take it just like that. You don’t have to do anything.”

He grips her hips, holding onto them for dear life as he pounds into her. She knows she’ll have bruises, but right now, Rey can’t seem to care. It feels so nice to just lie here and be used, if only for a little while.

His thrusts start stuttering, and she can feel him swell up inside her. He lifts her ass even higher off the couch, until he’s practically plowing into her vertically. But then he releases, and he’s laying on top of her, pumping his spend deep inside her. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her shoulder blades.

“Fuck, Rey,” he breaths out. “I’m gonna pull a muscle, fucking you one day.”

She chuckles, “I hope not.”

He pulls back her hair so he can look at her face, “Do you need anything?”

“Sleep would be nice.”

“No washcloths? Ibuprofen?”

Rey thinks, taking stock of the various aches and sores in her body. “A couple Advil wouldn’t hurt.”

“Where is it?”

“The medicine cabinet, in the bathroom down the hall.”

Ben kisses her shoulder before getting off, pulling his briefs on to retrieve the pills. While he’s gone, Rey sits up, using her underwear to clean up the mess between her legs before it can stain the couch.

He comes back with the Advil and a glass of water. Rey takes them, chugging down most of the glass before setting it on the coffee table. Ben sits next to her, rubbing her back. “Did you like it?” he asks.

Rey turns to him, confused, “Of course I did. Why would you ask that?”

“I know we started out rough,” Ben explains, “but it got kind of… intimate the second half. I’m preferential to the latter, but you wanted the hard dom, so I tried to give you that.”

“No, you were…” Rey searches for the words. “I thought I wanted the hard dom too. But… but the second half was good too. Maybe even better then the first.”

Ben smirks, “You’re just saying that in hopes I’ll give you some more cake.”

Rey turns towards him, leaning against the back of the couch, with her legs drawn up. “No I’m not!” He makes a face, “Okay maybe, a little.”

He brings a hand to her knee, “You mentioned you wanted to sleep?”

“Yes,” she pauses. “but only if you want to.”

“I could use a power nap.”

“Awesome.” Rey stands up, ignoring the soreness, and holds out her hand. He takes it.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” Ben comments, gesturing at the various Christmas decorations.

“Thank you, I put a lot of effort into them,” Rey says, trying to see her Dollar Store decorations through his eyes.

“Are those the drawings, you mentioned in your letter?” Ben points to the sketches she has taped to the wall behind her television.

“Yes, the ones I steal the markers for,” Rey says, pulling him towards her bedroom impatiently, and slightly embarrassed. He follows her, only letting go of her hand once they’re in bed, her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her.

As she’s drifting off, Rey is sure she feels him kiss her forehead and whisper _“I’ll buy all the markers you want, sweetheart,”_ but she’s asleep before the question can reach her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kitty_kat128)


End file.
